


7 Days of Robron (2018)

by thesnowyswan



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: 7 days of Robron (2018), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-08 07:02:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15237969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesnowyswan/pseuds/thesnowyswan
Summary: My collection of fics I've written for 7 days of Robron (2018)M rating for chapter 4, T otherwise.





	1. Flower crowns 101, or something like it

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1: Robron + fluff + “I didn’t know you could make a flower crown.”  
> Aaron considers the making of the flower crown his brotherly duty.
> 
> I wrote the story and then googled what I think Aaron would have made and [this instagram](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.instagram.com%2Fp%2FBJOD-EvAxpd%2F%3Ftaken-by%3Dcrownsbychristy&t=YTJkMmVhMzc5ZmQ2NzM2YjcyZDQ1MTJmMmVjMWVmZGI3ZmFiYTE0ZixjZjJmNmEyZjk0M2ZjMzIxMGQxYTE2ZGUyYTlhYzk0MjNmOTNiY2Ri) is very close.

Aaron knows he isn’t what any florist would picture asking for roses. Definitely not soft pink ones like he’s seen on Liv’s Instagram, creamy ones that apparently go with them, baby’s breath because white goes with everything and anything else he might need to make a flower crown, but here he is. The assistant smiles at him as she picks out varying bud sizes and gives him a few pointers about how to arrange them in a vase.

“I’m gay.” He throws it out there the same way people huff with irritation. It’s a barrier to whatever opinions this girl might have about Aaron and his floral arrangements. “And they’re for my sister.”

The girl can’t be much older than Liv with big wide brown eyes as she catches herself, her tag says her name is Tina, “Um, well, flowers are largely bisexual. And I’m sure she’s going to love them.”

Aaron feels like a dick now.

“Sorry.” He follows her back to the counter with the other bits of foliage she picked out before she starts to wrap them up. “I’m making a flower crown.”

Tina blinks for a second before she goes back to her task, “That’s cool, do you have any floral wire? We have some if you don’t. And floral tape, to cover the joins.”

Aaron nods, “Thanks.”

She disappears for a second before she comes back with a pack of rods that look more suited to a garden than a flower crown, and a reel of green ribbon.

“I think it’s really cool that you’re making this for her. My brother would never do this for me.” Tina gives him a small smile and finishes up the wrapping.

Aaron figures he’s in it now, “She didn’t think I could. Asked my husband instead.”

He remembers with perfect clarity as Liv walked straight past him to where Robert was working at the kitchen table and asked him if he’d help her with her project by making her a flower crown. It had clearly never even crossed her mind to even ask him.

Well, he weren’t having it, was he?

Somewhere between Google and Youtube, Aaron plucked up the courage to go to the florist furthest away from the Mill and get the stuff he needed.

“He good at that sort of thing?” Tina waits as Aaron taps his card on the reader and the till spits out a receipt.

“He has a sister, in her twenties now, so,” He’s pretty sure Robert never made Victoria a flower crown like this one, but he supposes that she’s a good a reason as any to ask him.

“Ah. Still, you’ve got all the makings of a really great crown.” Tina fixes his bag and puts the receipt in with his purchases, “Good luck. Don’t forget to tag us on Instagram when you’re finished, I’d love to see it…”

He doesn’t know if it’s the faith of a stranger, but he finds himself replying, “Aaron.”

“Aaron. Have a nice day, yeah?”

“Yeah, you too.”

****

It takes some getting used to. Aaron nicks one of Liv’s hats from her room to measure how big the wire is supposed to be and cuts it accordingly. He re-reads the instructions from the blog post he’s following on his phone to make sure he’s doing it right and starts to tape around the wire until it makes a firm circlet. He shakes out his green stuff and attaches that first. The roses come next, stems trimmed to exactly three inches, which he measures to make sure before putting more of them towards what he figures will be the front of the crown. The baby’s breath is trickier because of its thickness so he winds it in the spaces around the roses until it’s all filled up. He fusses a bit more until he’s happy with it, that it’s even and it won’t fall apart.

Robert picks that exact moment to come home in a rush, only to stop dead in front of Aaron’s floral carnage.

“Uh.” He blinks, “I didn’t know you knew how to make a flower crown.”

“Didn’t ask, didja?” Aaron feels his smugness rise until he sees Robert smile proudly as he comes to admire Aaron’s work.

“Liv is gonna love it, it’s just what she needs.” Robert moves to touch it, but Aaron moves it out of his way. Just because he thinks it won’t fall apart doesn’t mean it won’t.

“Think she’s gonna tell us what this project is then?” Robert looks at him funny, “What?”

“Aaron, Liv is in the school’s production of Hamlet. She’s playing Ophelia. And she didn’t tell you because she wanted it to be a surprise. Shit.”

Aaron runs a gamut of emotions: anger, jealousy, guilt. Robert is just as much Liv’s family and if she wanted his help, to share secrets with him, that’s up to her. But it hurts. A lot.

“You know she’s been trying really hard in school, this means it’s paying off. Getting a big part.” Robert tries to fluff up his ego, Aaron just shakes his head.

“It’s fine, Robert, she woulda told me eventually.”

“I think she just wanted to get her costume sorted, so she could show you the whole thing.”

“Let’s hope she likes this then,” Aaron gets up and takes the crown over tub he planned to keep it in to keep it fresh and he sprays it with aerosol water like it says before sealing the lid and putting it in the fridge.

Robert hugs himself to Aaron’s back as he closes the fridge door, “You’re…extraordinary.”

Aaron lets Robert be the balm that soothes his hurts away, his hands running across where Robert holds him.

“Today flower crowns, tomorrow who knows what pinterest adventure you’ll be on.”

And it’s ruined. Aaron knocks him off with an annoyed noise, “Shut up.”

“Just think about the possibilities.” Robert doesn’t let him get far, pulling on his jeans to stop his escape. “Wedding boutonnieres.”

Aaron hates that the mention of their upcoming nuptials turns him into a mushy, lovesick idiot but he can at least control his face about it.

“You want me to make _boutonnieres_.” He fakes disgust but part of him thinks that he could do it. Robert isn’t wrong, if there’s a pinterest, he could probably give it a go.

“Come on, Mr Sentimental, we can dry them after and keep them as a reminder.”

It hits Aaron like a lightning bolt. _Robert_ was already thinking about doing it himself.

“Alright,” Aaron hedges and Robert’s eyes narrow, “I’ll make your boutonniere if you make mine.”

Trap sprung, Robert visibly centres himself, nothing ever truly ruffling the great Robert Sugden, “You’re on. Preferences?”

Aaron drags the corners of his mouth down and makes his not bothered face, “No.”

“Shut up.” Robert laughs and kisses his closed mouth, pressing against him until Aaron gives and kisses him back. It’s easy to forget everything and just sway with Robert as they breathe each other in, hands on waists and elbows like nothing else matters.

The door slams again and they break apart like scalded cats. Robert backs away and tries to blend in with the furniture as Liv chucks her bag down on the settee.

Aaron clears his throat and Liv looks at him like he’s lost the plot.

“I made ya something.”

He takes out the tub and hands it to Liv. She opens it and her face just lights up, “Aaron, it’s perfect.”

She immediately throws herself into his arms for a hug but pulls away from him abruptly with a guilty look on her face, “I—”

“Robert already grassed you up. By accident, mind.”

Liv looks down, “I just wanted you to be proud of me, see it when it was all done and finished.”

“Don’t be daft, I’m always proud of you.” Aaron wraps his arm around her shoulders and squeezes, “You’ll be a great offal.”

He laughs when she shoves him.

“ _Ophelia_.”

“Ophthalmologist.”

“Aaron!”

Robert makes himself known when he gets between them to stop Liv from whacking Aaron on his arm, “Alright, enough you two.”

Liv smiles and puts her crown back in the fridge before she heads up to her room.

“You better put the leftovers in water,” Robert tells him as he grabs a cup from the cabinet behind Aaron’s head.

“Not much left,” Aaron goes back to the table and parts the cuttings and picks up the one decent stem left. It’s a cream rose, and he offers it to Robert.

Robert looks at the rose and then at him with a roguish grin, “Thinking about me, are you?”

Aaron lets his voice go soft, “Something like that.”

It gets him another kiss, slower, laden with gratitude as Robert gives as much as he takes. Robert’s phone rings shrilly in their quiet moment and Aaron tries not to fall into the space Robert leaves as he takes the call.

“Jimmy’s having a meltdown, to be continued?” Robert asks him with hopeful eyes, phone in hand as he gestures between them.

“I guess. If I’m stuck with ya,” Another kiss, a hard and fast peck before Robert rushes back out.

Aaron tidies up and then picks his phone up off the table. He opens Google and searches ‘how to make boutonnieres?’


	2. Bigger Worlds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: Robron + angst + “Whatever he’s saying, he’s lying!”  
> An incident, some hurt feelings, but then a deeper understanding of what family is.
> 
> Warnings: language, mentions of underage drinking/substance abuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did write this for this day, but I don't know if it fits the theme of _Robron_ well enough, but here it is.

The fact that Seb is Robert’s son was probably the biggest indicator for the shitstorm that would come when that same sweet little boy who had car toys and cuddled Robert’s legs would turn into a raging bag of dicks. He can think that because he raised the little troll. He can also fume as he picks up Seb’s dirty washing on the floor and the acrid smell of weed poorly concealed with a thick layer of deodorant. Sixteen and entirely too tied up in his own opinion of himself, Seb is almost like Robert cloned himself without the tempering of his own self-loathing. And he’s grateful for that he really is, but this isn’t on.

He tells Aaron about it and he remains his level-headed self about these things, “Better he does it here than out there.”

There would have been a time where Aaron was the one kicking off, but Robert feels like he has to get up in arms for both of them. This is serious. Drugs are bad, and with everything inside of him, Robert has tried to steer Seb to a better path.

“How’s about he does it nowhere?!”

In the end, Robert knows Aaron is right. It’s just the sneakiness of it. The blatant disregard and disrespect of the rules that their family strives to live by. Slowly, he tries to calm his ire because this kid is going to give him a heart attack before he’s 50 if he keeps going the way he’s going.

 ***

The last straw is when Seb comes home reeking of pot and cheap nasty cider, probably so pissed he spilt some on himself it’s that saturated.

“Inside, now.” Robert doesn’t raise his voice, he doesn’t reflect anger but Seb’s cockiness dissipates slightly as he slinks past Robert to where Aaron is standing by the settee with his arms folded.

“What—? What’s this?” Seb slurs as he gestures to Aaron, “An intervention?”

“You should be so lucky,” Robert mutters as he guides his son to sit down with a firm hand on his shoulder before sitting opposite him.

“Look, whatever he’s saying, he’s lying!”

That hits Robert ice cold, his eyes flitting to Aaron, his mouth parting a little with genuine surprise.

Being a father has taught Robert a lot about patience, but this frays him like a violin bow until he’s tense and about ready to snap: “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just try to pass off the fact that you’re drunk, you stink and aren’t in your right mind on your dad.”

“He’s not my dad,” Seb looks down mulishly and Robert grips his knee and it makes him look back up.

 _Let’s stop that right now_.

“Robert.” Aaron’s voice is soft, so soft that it cuts any anger that Robert has right out of him. He looks at his husband, his face sad with resignation.

“ _Your dad_ has changed your nappies, rocked you to sleep, taken you to school, fought your corner over your crap and he has _loved_ you.” Robert sighs. The books tell you that this might happen and that it might not. That children push their boundaries with their step parents, the validity of that relationship, but he never thought…he never thought Seb would. He has never known a life without Aaron, _Aaron is his dad_. “Maybe you should sober up and maybe you might remember that.”

There’s a flicker of guilt on Seb’s face and he avoids Aaron completely as he stands up and heads to his room, Robert still sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

He takes a big breath in and exhales before Aaron comes ‘round to take up the space where Seb was, “He’s just—”

“I don’t care about ‘he was just—’, it’s not on, Aaron.”

Aaron raises his brows like he has more to say but doesn’t. Robert makes a face at him, and Aaron shrugs, “It’s not like we didn’t know it was coming.”

That’s what hurts more than anything. The fact that Aaron dips his head because _he_ knew. He knew this little boy that he loved and raised would throw it back in his face.

“Someone has probably had him on a windup and it’s just come out because of the booze.” Aaron rationalises, and Robert hates it. “Just let him sleep it off, yeah.”

Robert used to marvel at how well Aaron knew him, how without saying a word, he knows that Robert was considering going up there. Now, he just takes it for what it is. Love. Loving another person so much that they become a part of you. It’s how he knows that Aaron needs him to put on a film, lie back on the settee and turn himself into a human pillow for Aaron to cuddle on. There are some hurts that can’t be talked about, so Robert just makes himself into something that can ease Aaron’s pain.

 ***

“Welcome to the land of the living,” Robert comments as Seb drags himself down the stairs for a coffee which Robert denies him and gives him a cup of tea instead. “Anything you want to share with the class?”

Aaron is out for an early meeting so Seb is subjected to the full force of Robert’s glare and he could not look more sorry for himself, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry, to me, not your dad who you really upset last night by saying he wasn’t your dad.”

Seb looks at him with baleful eyes and Robert feels himself working up again.

“Not to mention you were off your face. At sixteen no less! Classy, that.”

“I am sorry, Dad, I really am.” It’s earnest and Robert wants to accept it, but he can’t. Not until Seb apologises to the person he really needs to.

“Eat your cereal and go to school, try not to get caught up in illegal activities between now and then.” Robert takes his coffee and his laptop and sets himself up on the armchair with one eye on his son as he eats his cheerios mournfully.

***

Robert works from home that day so he’s there when Seb gets back from school. He must have just gotten out, come home and not milled about with his clearly terrible taste in friends.

“Dad.” Seb greets him and Robert nods, “Is Dad here?”

“No,” Robert shakes his head, “he has meetings until late.”

Seb shuffles on his feet and Robert finds himself relenting the smallest amount, “You could probably catch him if you call him now.”

He and Aaron have been texting about the situation and while it’s obvious he feels better than he did last night, Aaron is still nursing a pretty deep cut handed to him by Seb. Hearing from him, even a tinny apology that Seb will rush out in an effort to paper over his lancing words, will probably do Aaron a world of good. He’s always been the same, soft on Seb from the moment they decided to try again.

“Seb, wait,” Robert holds his hand out and Seb stops at the bottom of the stairs before turning around. “We have to talk about this. About how it’s not okay. Not any of it.”

“Dad, I know—”

“Do you?” Robert questions, “I get that you’re going to drink and try things and part of me has to deal with that so that you keep doing it safely if I can’t stop you. But you didn’t even try to tell us. You deflected, and the first thing you chose to say was that Aaron wasn’t your dad. That he had no right to an opinion about what goes on with you.”

Seb’s conception is not a secret from him, it never could be with Aaron’s lot throwing the baby out with the bathwater when it comes to airing dirty laundry.

“Aaron is the first person I talk to about you.” Robert catches Seb’s eye as he bows his head again, “I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, I’m not, but in one way or another, Aaron has always been there, making sure _I_ do right as your dad. Everything we do, we do together. There is no difference between us, do you understand?”

Robert watches as something crumples inside Seb until he sits on the settee and his eyes start to water with tears. Robert is up like a shot after that, sitting next to him and cuddling Seb to his side, his head tucked under Robert’s chin, and the clean smell of shampoo in his nose. He presses a kiss to soft, blonde hair and Seb gives up on trying to hold it in and he wraps his arms around Robert and has a quiet, almost silent cry.

He waits until the crying stops and his shirt starts to dry before he runs a hand down the back of Seb’s head and rubs his arm, “Did someone say something then?”

A shaky nod.

“And you wanted to be cool and fit in?”

Another slower nod.

Robert hums, “Mmm, people say kids are cruel and it’s true. At your age, everyone zeroes in on your greatest insecurity and blows it completely out of proportion.”

“But having two dads, that’s not something to be insecure about, Seb. We love you, we love each other, we love our family.”

Seb finally untucks himself with red-rimmed eyes, “but it’s not normal, is it?”

It’s been years since they first had the mummies and daddies, daddies and mummies conversation but it doesn’t surprise Robert that it comes up again.

“And what’s normal? The narrow view of another sixteen-year-old who has _no clue_ about your life? Hmm?”

Seb shakes his head no.

“Small minded people keep their worlds small, Seb. Be bigger than that. Be better, alright?”

“I’ll wait till Dad comes home,” Seb says quietly and folds his legs under him on the settee. “Apologise properly.”

Robert kisses his forehead, “Okay.”

***

Robert puts the tea on when he gets a text from Aaron that he’s on his way and Seb is dozing on the cushions, his little cry making him tired, or maybe it’s the remnants of the drink, that’s anyone’s guess. Still, he hasn’t moved and quite happily sat, sometimes scrolling on his phone, sometimes cuddling up under the blanket Robert put on him.

Aaron’s key turns in the door and Seb is up like an army recruit on reprimand. It shocks Aaron as he comes through the door, and Seb is there all rigid in front of him, silent but clearly bursting. It’s funny because Aaron is shorter and with dark hair to Seb’s fair-haired, lanky frame, but when Seb bites his lip that’s all Aaron.

“Dad…”

The tenseness that Aaron had upon seeing Seb, the initial spike of fear, just slides out of him and he cocks his head, his hands turning out a little, and Seb takes it for what it is. He launches himself at Aaron for a hug and hides his face in Aaron’s shoulder.

Seb must be whispering because Aaron slowly rubs his back and tells him, “it’s alright.”

Robert comes up just off the side of them and puts his hand on the small of Aaron’s back, “Tea’s ready.”

Aaron unwinds one of his arms from Seb and pulls Robert in. The three of them hug until Seb’s teen gene kicks in and he has to part from them in a show of faux disgust at the fact that his parents love him.

“I’m starving,” he says before he heads over to the table and Robert just draws little circles on Aaron’s skin before giving him a quick kiss hello. Aaron tips his head up to their noses slide along each other before he goes after Seb and Robert is left to trail up the rear.

Robert has made chicken wrapped in bacon and the three of them largely eat in silence and it’s good. It’s almost like Seb never got drunk except for the fact that he looks over at Aaron every so often for silent approval. And being the dad he is, Aaron never denies it.


	3. Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3: funny + “I’m not stuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not funny, please take pity on me. My days are a bit messed up due to technical difficulty and human error so please bear with.

“And here I thought you wanted to get into the property biz,” Aaron tries to cover his laugh by pulling his lips to cover his teeth. 

“Are you going to help me or what?” Robert looks down at him with an aggressive sort of resignation of someone who has been sitting on a wooden beam for a very long time.

“Nah, sounds a bit too much like work. It’s my day off, innit,” He rubs his finger under his nose and Robert gestures to him with his finger. “Rude. Maybe I just don’t wanna help ya now.”

About an hour ago, Aaron got a frantic, distressed phone call from Robert which garbled together to sound like, _“I’m stuck! Help me!”_

Aaron’s first thought was _stuck where?_ And he remembered that Robert was going to see the foundations and framing being laid for his new housing development project. What started as a way of mugging off Joe Tate has now become a lucrative side venture for Robert. When he isn’t two stories up and his ladder flat by Aaron’s feet.

“Might be better to wait until they build you some stairs, mate.”                             

Robert sighs and clings to the thick bit of wood next to him like it’s all a bit much for him, “Aaron.”

Aaron shuffles a rock in front of him with his foot, “What will you give me for it?”

“Please, just get me down. Play Three Lions all you want, eat takeaway every night for a week, cut your toenails in bed, I don’t care.”

That last one tells Aaron that Robert has clearly had enough. He turns the ladder over with his foot and picks it up so that it hits the beam just the left of where Robert is sitting with his legs dangling over the edge.

“How are you even here by yourself? Isn’t there like rules for this?” Aaron questions as Robert manages to get his foot on the first rung.

Everything around them is a mess of mud, concrete and the wood that creates the see-through outline for the walls of the house. It’s a bit weird that there was no one here for ages or to take Robert’s call when he did get stuck.

“There were people but then,” Robert gets his feet on solid ground and sighs with relief, “I dunno.”

“And here I am, ready to rescue a damsel in distress,” Aaron opens his arms wide and Robert takes the clean shot at his belly with a backhanded slap.

“I’m not wearing a dress.” He leans down and gives Aaron a kiss. Aaron barely closes his eyes and it’s over.

“Shame, nice legs.” Aaron snorts and Robert just glares at him as he heads back to his car and Aaron back to his. Aaron parked up next to him, so they make plans to meet back at home. Robert will get there first, there’s something Aaron has to do.

 

Home Farm has always been a skeezy place to Aaron, made only skeezier by its current tenant. Joe welcomes Aaron in with a flourish. Aaron breathes deeply internally and exhales before he follows Joe to the kitchen.

“Everything alright?” Joe asks with his cheerful disposition.

Aaron sniffs, “Yeah, great. I just wanted to chat about summat.”

Joe does look interested, beyond his phoney put-on interest, Aaron mentally thumbs his nose at it.

“Yeah, about the day when I’m not on licence and your days of pulling shit are over.”

Graham who has been lurking steps forward, but Aaron didn’t raise his voice, or even move.

“Robert, Liv, Robert. It must be nice thinking you’ve got it all sorted.” Aaron laughs and puts his hands down on the island, “Men like you, men like Robert, you like your words. Keeps you out of it. Keeps you safe. Not big on words me.”

Aaron flicks his eyes over to Graham who is still standing comfortably, not advancing at all. He must think Joe needs this talking down.

“Never saw the use in it; it’s all just lies anyway, ain’t it?” Aaron stands up, “Be seeing ya, Joe.”

He nods to Graham and gets back into his car to go home to his safe and sound husband.

 

 

Robert is up in arms when Aaron gets home, “Where were you?”

Aaron gestures to his carrier bag, “Shop. Figured you’d need some balloons for your next Up adventure.”

“Sod off.”

“I got some beers, didn’t I, and I was right to with the mood you’ve got going on.” Aaron puts the bag on the table and Robert puts his hands on his hips.

“Sorry.”

Aaron slides his hands in above Robert’s on his waist and gives him a gentle squeeze, “You’re alright now. So, calm down.”

“I’ll calm down when you tell me what you told Joe Tate.”

Aaron didn’t think he was fooling anyone by going over there, but he didn’t really expect Robert to figure it out so easily.

“I end up stuck up a beam for three hours, my arse going numb, yeah, I know it was Joe. Please tell me you didn’t do anything stupid.” Robert laces his fingers loosely around Aaron’s back and lets them hang.

“Nah, a friendly chat, you know me.”

“Good. As much as it sucked to be ‘cat up a tree’ it’s much better than lonely husband…” Robert stops when he realises where he was going and what it would have alluded to. Aaron isn’t bothered by it.

“I get it, you can’t live without me. I’m the light of your life,” Aaron puts on the dramatics and Robert scoffs.

Robert gets a small smile on his face though and Aaron realises that, actually, maybe that’s a little bit closer to the truth than he realises.


	4. Imperfect, Broken and True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 Smut + "Tell me what you want."
> 
> M rating for this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, your girl is stupid. I got my days mixed up so Day 5 is technically on Day 5 but I wrote it for Day 4 but Day 4 will be up later after I write it instead of Day 5. Ya feel?
> 
> Welcome to the AU of after Robert says I love you for the first time, please enjoy. *makes shove-y hands*

_Not my problem is it?_

_This is not a love story._

It all haunts Robert as he stares down at the face of this man that he loves. He never meant for it come out. All he knows is that he was frustrated, unable to reach out and touch the parts of Aaron he knows are inside him, that he had shared with Robert in quiet, never forgotten spaces. _Let me in_.

Like his anger and frustration at his own ineptitude, the words tumbled out of Robert, glide with an ease that shouldn’t be. He expected them to catch, to be hindered by some greater force because it cannot be. _You can’t love a man_. And yet, here he is, heart full inside his chest because _yes, he does_. He spills himself out in words, “I love you, and I can’t watch you suffer.”

He knew it was real. He knew it was true when somehow, some way, it reached Aaron and sparked something in his eyes. That his own gratitude that Aaron could feel something other than pain at that moment was more than anything he might ever say again.

It’s the least he can do to offer the man he loves an out from his torment, the torment that only exists because he created it.

It’s unnerving to put his fate in Aaron’s hands. He’s already resigned himself to the truth coming out. He can handle it if Aaron is okay. If Aaron stops punishing himself for Robert’s actions. They were never his to take. He doesn’t know how he lived never knowing this feeling. That what he does matters.

Aaron couldn’t look less impressed. He asks for them again in that way of his that sounds like a demand. Robert is ready this time. They aren’t being torn from him now, he’s giving them with his full and whole-hearted consent, “I love you.”

Aaron won’t give them back to him. He won’t expose what Robert has broken. It’s okay. Robert can wait. Because it is real.

He takes a chance, a very risky chance, and presses his lips against Aaron’s, bent over him on the stairs. Aaron’s lips are dry and chapped from the frigid weather and he keeps them sealed tightly shut against Robert’s advances. He doesn’t pull away or push Robert, so Robert tries again, tilts his head a little to the left and gets more of Aaron’s beard than his mouth. His cut lip is throbbing with irritation, but still nothing from Aaron. Only, when he searches Aaron’s face, there’s expectation being levelled at him.

_You want me? Work for it._

He tucks his hands under Aaron’s biceps and hauls him up off the stairs before grabbing hold of his face for a third kiss. Aaron parts his mouth the tiniest bit with surprise, his brows drawing into a frown, but Robert uses it to his advantage, pulling and teasing his bottom lip before pulling back to see Aaron’s face again. Robert is closer, Aaron is softening, however minutely to his attention, so he keeps his eyes open to watch Aaron close his, and when he does, Robert wraps one arm around Aaron’s shoulders and traps him against the bannister. With everything to lose, Robert waits to be shoved away, but it doesn’t come. Aaron’s hands gently hold his hips as they fall into that feeling that only exists when they’re alone together. It lets loose something inside Robert’s chest that soars. It’s not a returned ‘I love you’, but it’s the closest thing to it.

Robert tips Aaron’s head up with a hand on his cheek, thumb under his jaw before he mouths wetly at his neck, teasing him with soft bites on where he can reach. He hits the collar of Aaron’s jumper and drags it away from his skin with the hand from his shoulders, sucking heavily on the skin of his collarbone as he presses his hips solidly on Aaron’s to pin him down. Aaron holds the back of his head as he does it, hissing as Robert sucks to the point of probable pain. Robert just keeps going until he can’t anymore, and when he does, he looks to see his creation. It’s purple-ish now, so when it comes up properly, it’s going to be dark and unavoidable. Aaron will have to hide it for days, a visible reminder that Robert has laid his hands on him. It’s perverse but he wants to strip Aaron down and give him a hundred of them, so many that everyone will know where he’s been.

“You done?” Aaron throws at him. His disinterest is strong but feigned. Robert can feel the attraction and excitement that Aaron feels betraying him as he pushes hard with his groin to get Robert to back off him.

He goes, but not far. He shakes his head, lets himself take his fill of looking at Aaron, dishevelled and his jumper a mess where Robert has stretched the neck of it. The intensity of Robert’s stare obviously makes Aaron uncomfortable, so he tries to slope off, but Robert stops him with a hand on his waist.

“Tell me what you want.”

Aaron’s eyes narrow and he looks suspicious. Robert doesn’t know how to vocalise what he wants to say without it sounding self-serving. _I need you. I need to be with you_. _Us is the only thing that feels real_. In Aaron’s arms is the only time that everything feels quiet. He pushed Aaron to hurt him. To free him from his silence, and this is Robert’s way of doing the same. _Let’s be lost together_.

As if Aaron has the ability to read his mind, he cocks his head to the stairs and heads up, expecting Robert to follow.

Aaron’s room is dark, he perpetually never opens his curtains and he has a car painting above his bed. It’s everything someone his age should have. For a split-second, Robert feels every inch of his guilt for dragging Aaron into this. He’s in the upstairs of a pub his stepmum half co-owns about to do unspeakable things to her business partner’s son and he has a wife. But he won’t leave, either of them.

Door closed, Aaron waits. He doesn’t look convinced by anything, so Robert pushes his jacket off his shoulders, forcing Aaron to unfold his arms to get it off. It drops to the floor and they both stare at it. For possibly the first time, Robert doesn’t know what to do. He wrapped himself up in so many lies; _Aaron needs you more than you need him, you don’t need him, you can leave whenever you want_. Now they’re home to roost because Robert does need him. He can’t lie to himself anymore and he doesn’t know what he’ll do if Aaron turns him away.

Sure hands handle his buckle. Robert looks down and watches as Aaron strips him of it, pulls his jumper over his head. His t-shirt is barely even a layer as it lands somewhere between Robert’s jumper and Aaron’s coat. Aaron gives him a little shove with a hand on his belly. Robert stumbles only slightly before he’s pushed again. Aaron hems him down onto his bed, Robert coming to sit up on the end of it, Aaron pushes his way to stand between Robert’s knees.

“You twist everything up to get what you want,” Aaron says quietly, Robert goes to contradict him but decides better of it. “You love me? Fine. You love me.”

“Take ya trousers off.”

Robert does as he’s told and scoots them off, shoes going along with, feeling vulnerable in just his pants, but he sticks with it.

Aaron pulls off his own tops and unbuckles his belt, “You want us to have sex—”

“Aaron,” Robert cups Aaron’s side with his hand, “I don’t. I just want to be with you.”

That stops Aaron in his tracks for a moment, then he kicks off his trousers with his boots and lies down on the bed next to Robert.

“Alright,” Aaron snuggles down onto his pillow, oddly on Robert’s side of the bed but Robert just moves up so that he can lie facing him. “I’m here.”

He doesn’t how or when, but Aaron twisted it all up so that he’s the one offloading, being comforted. _I don’t deserve it. Even if what happened to Katie was an accident, I don’t deserve this_. But he’s selfish enough that he’ll take it. He’ll take whatever bits of Aaron he can get.

He lets his fingers skim Aaron’s side from his hip up to his ribs and back down over his stomach. It quivers but Aaron’s face is unfazed when Robert looks back at him. He tries again with a firmer grip on Aaron’s thigh, tucking himself forward so his own leg slips between Aaron’s and the thigh in his hand rests over top of his.

“Is it good?” Robert asks before he kisses the skin just below his hickey.

Aaron shrugs, eyes cast away, and then meets Robert’s gaze, “It’s alright.”

His fingers slip under the elastic of Aaron’s pants, just resting over his bum, thumb rubbing the bottom of his back. Robert lets his mouth trace over Aaron’s collarbone under his hickey, bottom teeth grazing over his skin before being soothed by short swipes of his tongue. He takes his time, moving from patch to patch until Aaron’s fingers are wound in his hair and he gets a sharp pain when Aaron tightens them to pull him away from his chest.

The seconds seem to draw out as Aaron looks at him, his mouth dropped open, slick with his own spit as he waits for whatever is to come. He thinks he’s about to be kissed but Aaron pulls his head back and pushes with his body to roll them over, Robert on his back and Aaron on top of him. He swallows, and it’s blessed relief when Aaron finally chooses to drag his mouth across his in a smear, ghosting almost to Robert’s throat until he nips his jaw up by his ear.

Aaron lets go of his hair and gets his hands under himself before pushing up to sit on Robert’s hips. His underwear feels like sandpaper on his skin as Aaron leans over to the drawer, his palm on Robert’s chest to keep him flat to the bed. All he can do is look as Aaron kneels and awkwardly peels off his pants and leaves Robert’s uncomfortably tight where they are. But he doesn’t care. Robert strokes Aaron’s thighs, slots his thumbs into the dips under his hip bones, yearns for anything that Aaron is willing to give.

He wonders if that’s love. Feeling fortunate enough to gain even the smallest scraps from the one you desire or is it just the bed he’s made for himself. Others would have truly left by now. Seen the vapid, put-upon narcissism and run for the hills. Aaron is either too strong or too stupid to go, too believing that there is something truly better under Robert’s walls and games.

Aaron looks down at his full hands and then back up at Robert, “I want you to.”

Robert lets him go and takes what he needs from him, Aaron leaning up on his hands again. His mouth is just in reach, so Robert takes it. Listens to the sound that they make as he does. He uses it to distract Aaron as he wets his fingers and teases them gently against him.

“Lay on me, yeah,” Robert guides him, Aaron nodding and lying on Robert’s stomach and chest, his legs either side of Robert, but on his elbows as Robert holds him with one arm around the small of his back and the other poking gently. Aaron steals a kiss from him, short, closed-mouthed and steady, Robert can feel Aaron breathing out his nose before he lets him go and bites his lip into his mouth again.

Robert wonders if he was actually ready to be told that Aaron loves him. Aaron’s heart in comparison is too big, loves too keenly and without end. He teases the first groan out of Aaron and his shoulders come up as he fights the feeling, bowing his head before bringing it back up. What they do together isn’t a tenth of what Aaron is capable of feeling, he’s seen it, and he knows it. What does Robert know about honouring that kind of love?

Aaron hitches his knee up and pulls his hips under a little before rocking back, a drawn-out sigh as Robert pushes against him. His own boxers are sticky, encouraged by Aaron’s movements against him and he’s practically poking out the top of them, but he keeps his focus completely on Aaron. The other side of his neck doesn’t have a hickey, so Robert redistributes more lube and sucks hard as he redoubles his efforts elsewhere and Aaron grunts before it dissipates into a moan. His hair suffers the same treatment as he bites, not unkindly, Aaron’s collarbone. He releases, and Aaron shoves his tongue inside Robert’s mouth with almost no finesse. He licks behind Robert’s teeth and seems to become more himself, teasing gently against Robert’s tongue as their kiss moulds into _them_.

Aaron also stops them abruptly by taking his mouth away and grabbing Robert’s elbow to stop it moving, “Job’s done.”

He gets off Robert for the amount of time it takes him to peel off his pants and chuck them over the side of the bed before Aaron’s pushing his shoulder down and climbing back over his hips. Aaron’s hand reaches behind to slide over him and squeezes at the tip, already giving up fluid when barely touched. It’s embarrassing, but not. He’d give it all up for Aaron. All the ways he wants him, it’s too much and never enough.

The packet crinkles and despite every preparation, it’s always impossible to start with. Robert grits his teeth as Aaron bears down on him. He has to look away when Aaron cups himself and Robert can see everything. They shouldn’t fit, but they do. When Aaron bottoms out it’s like nothing else. He pushes through Robert’s blonde hair that tickles his bum and shifts his knees a bit wider and starts to move.

There’s a secret space inside Robert’s chest that tells him, ‘in another life, he would have been yours.’ And that’s the truth. He might love Aaron, and Aaron might love him, but beyond this, there is no them. So, Robert craves it more and more. Tries to give Aaron more pleasure to make up for what is always lacking.

Robert tries to get out of his own head, back to what’s real by pulling his heels closer to his bum. He starts to push against Aaron and feels a warmth spread in his belly when Aaron moans with it.

“Aaron.” He doesn’t know what he wants to say, but it gets his attention. He nods and rubs Robert’s chest, hand slipping down his ribs to help get him up. It takes some working, but Aaron ends up in his lap, their chests bumping as they rock against each other, mouths missing more than catching.

 _I love you, I love you, I love you_.

“Robert,” Aaron says it in that way only he can. Quick, almost needy. Robert slips his hands up to press his fingers into Aaron’s shoulders. _God, I love you_.

Robert hides his face with his forehead against Aaron’s chest as his body sneaks up on him, everything binding up and sparking behind his balls. His fingers dig and hold Aaron in place as Aaron soothingly ruffles the back of Robert’s hair. Robert kisses up Aaron’s breastbone as he raises his head, licks the saltier skin and helps Aaron ease off him and onto his back.

Everything tied off, Robert settles himself between Aaron’s thighs. He blows on his belly button to see Aaron laugh and how his chuckle makes him bounce and slap against himself. Things like this never interested Robert before. Not for anything other than the power it gave him. With Aaron, it’s another way to draw him out. To sneak behind walls made of sneers and anger. To get to know the real man beneath. It makes Robert feel special that in all the time he’s known Aaron, despite his jealousy, despite Robert’s knock backs, he has never once tried to make a go of it with someone else.

The secret place whispers: _you’re enough_.

He might like to think so, but he’s not. Not for a man like Aaron. He presses wet kisses against him and strives to wrench more broken sounds out of Aaron. He pulls him closer with hands under his bum and Robert swallows until he feels the heavy press at the back of his throat. A neat trick, one Aaron is quietly enamoured with. He’s never said it, but he twitches harder when Robert does it. Swears more consistently and spills more at the drop of a hat. Robert can see Aaron’s face straining when he looks up, the internal spring coiling and his toes curling because it’s going to release.

Robert dips a finger down and Aaron jerks away from it, choking down a moan. Robert tastes the heady mix of salt and his own saliva, so he weighs himself down on Aaron, arm over his leg, making it impossible for him to escape. The sounds stop until it’s just Robert’s mouth making obscene ones and Aaron is biting on his fist which he’s closed up and shoved between his teeth.

Aaron pushes at his shoulder, hard, but Robert doesn’t budge. Aaron folds up on himself and tremors wrack his body as he unspools, boneless, and then finally content, slowly coming to rest on his back again, chest heaving with exertion.

Robert just rolls off and lies next to him, legs hanging off the bed and staring at the ceiling.

 _If I loved you better, I’d let you go_ , but Robert has always been wholly imperfect. It’s that notion that sends him back on his stomach and kissing the parts of Aaron he can reach; the top of his thigh, his hip, just under his belly button and above it. Aaron just cups the back of his neck and lets him do as he pleases, too sated to move or to care. Aaron’s whole demeanour is lighter now, basking in the afterglow before reality sets in.

Before Robert destroys it all.

He shuffles up more until he can lie on Aaron’s chest and press his cheek over his heart and pretend for a few more minutes that this is theirs.

It’s so easy with Aaron. There’s nothing to fight, nothing to deny, Robert is entirely himself, and that’s what’s terrifying. That’s what sends him scurrying away, denying himself that last bit of peace by sitting up and getting his pants off the floor. Aaron sees him do it and he shakes his head, getting up to get his too.

Anger is good. Anger keeps them both at arm’s length. Robert breaks down Aaron’s walls to help him brick back up. Because it suits him. He feels disgusted with himself. The voice inside him cries in a softer, quieter voice: _I love you_. That’s his wall. He covers it with bricks and cement of who he’s supposed to be and it can bounce inside like Echo herself.

He gets dressed and sits on the bed. He can’t let this be all there is. A fissure, maybe. Robert catches Aaron’s fingers with his own as he stands in front of him ready to fight, “I love you.”

 _It’s not enough_. For Aaron, for him, for all the ways that it means.

“Yeah, whatever,” Aaron doesn’t say it nastily. He says it like someone who it doesn’t mean a thing to.

Robert stands up and takes Aaron’s face into his hands and kisses him. Kisses him like the words came out earlier. Kisses him like one day he might love Aaron the way he deserves. He slowly opens his eyes and Aaron’s are still closed, savouring whatever he was able to glean from Robert’s meaning and Robert prays that he will remember this. Robert loves him and it’s real. It’s broken and unworthy of him, but true and all Robert has.

He leaves Aaron staring after him, a speculative look on his face, and Robert tries to go back to his life.

It won’t work. The fissure crumbles. It blows apart with guns and blood. Robert doesn’t choose not to kill. There’s some part of him that would have done it if it had been anyone else, but with Aaron, he chooses for Aaron to live, and to damn everything else.

His wall is in tatters when the truth of him comes out. _I love you, I love you, I love you_ rings out like a jubilant cry that mocks him as Aaron turns away from him. He’s left in the rubble, crushed until Aaron’s walls fall just like his.

“I want to be able to rely on you, Robert.”

He remembers their kiss that day. With a small amount of uncertainty, he offers it to Aaron again, heals the broken parts with how he’s grown and prays that Aaron understands.

Robert opens his eyes to Aaron’s shy smile, unlike his questioning face, he understands. Robert loves him and it’s real.


	5. From the Ashes, Rise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: hurt/comfort + "breathe"
> 
> A loosely based on Kenneth Brannagh's Cinderella (2015)!AU.
> 
> Warnings: for mentions of canon abuse/self-harm.

Trying to wipe the thick level of grime off his hands, Aaron strides wide to the stables. He can’t take it anymore. His skin itches tight and his head feels heavy and full of hot anger, but he doesn’t want to say or do something he regrets.

His horse, Gamble, is leashed at the end stall, the only thing he could get his stepmother not to sell when it came to auctioning off everything that wasn’t nailed down. In a way, he doesn’t blame her. Left all alone with a young daughter and a stepson with the death of her husband, she had very little open to her. Until Aaron came of age, there wasn’t much anyone could do. So, she sold, and she waited.

_“Aaron, sweep the chimney, will you? Your sister is coughing,” Sandra had told him the first time. Aaron peeked his own small head over the bassinet where she slept and then he picked up the broom._

Slowly, the demands increased.

Aaron wasn’t born into a life of servitude, but it’s the life he lives, and he does it for her. That sweet baby who grew blonder and taller and with a quicker wit, she makes his life bearable. More than once, Liv has been scolded for trying to help Aaron, only to be reminded that it wasn’t becoming of a young lady to be so dirty.

_“Good thing I ain’t a lady then,” Liv tossed back before picking up her skirts and stepping into the mud just outside the steps to the manor._

_In the quiet of the loft, Liv, barely eight years old, asked Aaron why they didn’t run away, she’d go anywhere with him so that he could be free._

_Aaron scrubbed at a stain in his undershirt before he looked over at Liv, her eyes wide and pleading._

_“It wouldn’t be a life for you, Liv, you’d be ruined, and I can’t do that to you.”_

_“I’d do it to me,” Liv kicked up her slipper covered feet. “It’s not like I want a husband.”_

_Aaron watched her, small as she was, and he believed her. Maybe when he’s old enough, had access to their inheritance, he really would run. Leave Sandra destitute of money the way she had left him…to what she had left him to._

_“Right now, you need to go to bed,” he told her, and he took her back down to her opulent, garishly pink room. Aaron selfishly didn’t want the fight he’d have with Sandra if Liv was found in his room. He hugged Liv tight and thought of nothing because nothing was to be done._

 

 

 

Aaron’s eighteenth birthday passed without thoroughfare. He remembers it well. Liv had snuck away a few coins each month and bought him a cake that they ate in the back field. Sandra made no comment and gave no assurances that Aaron would see the money he was promised by right of birth. He didn’t want it. It was foul, dirty money but it was his chance at freedom. Liv managed to grab him a letter from what had been their father’s study, a place neither of them will willingly go to, and she waited until he read it before she railed.

_“She can’t do that.” Liv’s face gets red with her anger and upset, but Aaron just feels cold. His mother is dead, Sandra was Gordon’s living wife, Liv is their legitimate daughter. She used every loophole in the book to make sure every penny went to Liv and nothing to Aaron. It will once again remain in a trust she controls until Liv is eighteen. Nearly another decade._

_Aaron tries to soothe Liv as she cries for him. It’s like walking through treacle, but he gets there. They have more cake and spend as much time as they can away from the manor, freezing in the January weather, and for a moment, Aaron is able to forget._

_Later, when he’s alone, he spies a broken shard of an old mirror his mother loved and gets the freedom he secretly wished so hard for in the form of blood seeping out of his skin_.

Six more years pass and it’s another day, another battle. Eggs too cold, tea too hot, Aaron wants it to stop. So, he rides. Gamble sees him coming and she butts her nose against Aaron’s palm looking for apples. He managed to sneak her away one that he feeds to her as he pets her glossy chestnut brown coat, rubbing her throat and tapping her with healthy pats.

“Let’s go,” He coos as he unlaces the rope from the stall. She accepts the blanket he likes to put on her back to protect her from the coarseness of his breeches, but he doesn’t have a saddle or a bridle or anything that requires money. Aaron likes it better like this, swinging up on Gamble’s back and holding only her mane, for the short time they are together, they’re both free.

He squeezes his thighs against Gamble’s ribs and they go.

 

 

 

There are horns sounding. Aaron looks left and right, trying to figure out where they’re coming from. He’s far from the property, close to the bridge he likes to rest Gamble after a hard ride, but there normally isn’t another person for miles here.

It bellows again, and he’s shunted back and forth as she stumbles back on herself. He sees what scared her, a big stag, almost a third bigger than Gamble. When he doesn’t come forward, she settles. Aaron can’t help but look at him. Being chased by forces he cannot control, he wants to live. It’s why he ran.

 _I get it_.

Aaron sees familiarity in his big brown eye as he slowly passes Aaron. _Go_ , he wills him. _Go_.

Suddenly, the stag sets off, hurtling off to the beyond. Aaron laughs because it’s good. Another branch snaps, and he pulls on Gamble’s mane until she turns with him to it. It’s a horse without a rider. Saddled, with what looks expensive rich leather, the horse ambles until Aaron guides Gamble forward. The horse starts to back away and Aaron tries to shush it, but it moves further away until he hears a noise. It’s a groan of pain, short, cut almost, so Aaron throws himself down and tries to find its source.

Near a low hanging branch is a man, fair-haired and wheezing as he clutches his stomach.

“You alright?” He asks.

The man looks up at him sharply, “Uh.”

“Just breathe, you’re probably winded.”

“I know what I am,” he grouses as he tries to haul himself up to seated. Aaron goes to his side and helps to pull him up. He gets roughly pushed aside so he throws his hands up and leaves him with.

“Well then, see ya,” Aaron waves him off, only the man sighs and it stops him where he stands.

“Sorry, I tried to slow my horse and I got caught,” he gestures to the branch above him. Put the man on a horse and it’s just the right height for hitting him in the gut.

Aaron tries to ignore his lack of a gut, everything about him really. He finally gets himself off the floor and brushes down his breeches. They’re creamy in colour and reek of money. The kind of money that makes beautiful things even more beautiful and this man is stunning. His eyes search Aaron’s face and he remembers he’s got soot on his face, mud splashed up his neck and an extra accidental hole in his tunic.

He shakes himself from his own self-consciousness when he catches the horses out of the corner of his eye, remembers the stag who barely made it away with his life, “Right, well, take your hunt elsewhere.”

“Excuse me?” There’s a ludicrous tone to the stranger’s voice and Aaron shrugs it off.

“The stag? He’s gone, mate, so take your games elsewhere.”

“How do you—?”

“He deserves to live, y’know, you all hunting him for sport, he deserves a peaceful life,” Aaron turns on his heel and tries to ignore the wornness of the bottoms of his soles.

A hand catches his arm, “Have I in some way offended you?”

Aaron casts his eyes down to pale, long fingers that clasp over his wrist, and looks back up to green-blue, “No. You ain’t wronged me at all. Doesn’t mean you’re right either.”

“Because the stag deserved to live?” He uses a soft voice like Aaron might to stop Gamble from startling, he steps forward towards Aaron again and something changes in the air.

“He does; we all do.” Aaron matches his tone and turns his wrist over, thankful his arms are covered by the sleeves of his tunic.

“To be free?”

Aaron pulls his wrist out from his grasp but trails his fingers across his palm as he does, “Yes.”

They gravitate towards each other, and Aaron can almost taste the air before their lips touch and what a mistake it would be but a crack of more branches being broken breaks the spell. They jump apart and Aaron frowns at what came over him.

“I have to go.”

The stranger mirrors his frown, “Where?”

Aaron makes his way back to his horse, stroking her back before he hoists himself up. The man stands in front Gamble and touches her nose before rubbing down. Aaron tries to ignore that she doesn’t try to pass him, that she likes the man well enough to want more scratches on her chin.

Aaron tightens his legs to get Gamble to move, but the man stops him again, “Wait.”

“What?” He says shortly.

“Come to the big party, at the palace.”

He frowns, “Why would I do that?”

There’s a marked moment of hesitancy, “I…work there. I’d like to see you again, please?”

Aaron still doesn’t get it.

“You’re very interesting.”

“Whatever,” Aaron shrugs. Gamble has stopped ignoring his signals now and is ready to go.

“You’ll come?”

Aaron doesn’t answer, just knows that he barely makes it out of the clearing before there are more voices asking Rob about where he went.

 

 

 

Liv waits for him in the stables when he gets back. Fourteen now, she almost matches her attitude with her height, the latter the only thing lacking.

“Where’d you go?”

Aaron makes a face at her, “Out, why?”

“Mum’s on one,” She grimaces at her skirt and Aaron pulls her in for a one-armed hug. “She wants to take me to the big party but I’m not old enough to be anyone’s wife.”

Aaron pushes Liv away from him at that, “What?”

“The prince is ready to marry, so they’re throwing him a big party. Mum had dresses made and we’re going.”

 _We’re going_. Liv and Sandra. Not Liv, Sandra and Aaron.

“You’re right about you being too young. What is she playing at?” Aaron holds onto Liv as he guides Gamble back into her pen. “I’ll just have to keep an eye.”

Liv stops, “You’re coming?”

Aaron feels that swoop in his belly that he did when he realised that he was attracted to his mystery companion. He tried to ignore it, but it took root with, ‘come to the palace.’ No one else barring Liv had ever taken a second look at him for anything.

“I know someone.”

“You know someone.”

“I’m not completely friendless,” Aaron grumbles as Liv laughs and pinches his side.

“Good thing I got you something then.”

 

 

 

Aaron’s disappearance means he’s left with a list of chores a mile long to do as punishment. He’s entirely sure Sandra emptied out the coal pans on purpose for one of them.

“Oh, such a shame you won’t be able to come tonight, Aaron, I’m sure the prince would have loved to meet someone so…rustic.”

On the surface, she sounds nice enough, but every word is laced with poisonous resentment. Until right now she hadn’t even mentioned anything about the big to-do, she only has now that she’s been tripped up by Liv telling him the truth. “But also, let’s hope he is blessed with the beginnings of a fruitful marriage.”

 _Fruitful_ , that word makes Aaron sick as he knows she has Liv upstairs being pulled about and primped for men she has no business being around. When she does finally make it downstairs, she’s beautiful. Dressed in a deep, rich purple gown, her hair swept up in braids, but she’s also still a little girl. Underneath her bravado, Aaron can see her shaking, her mettle well and truly tested.

 _We get there, Liv, and then we run. Money or no money, we run_. This is the vow he makes to her as she throws herself in his arms before she has to leave. She whispers that she left his present under his bed and her mother drags her away to put a small tiara on her hair. It takes everything Aaron has not to burn everything to hell.

Mindlessly, he starts doing jobs as he waits. The carriage leaves and Aaron heads up to his room for Liv’s gift. Just as she said, there’s a large white box under his bed, wrapped up with a neat satin bow.

_What the…?_

He opens it and he doesn’t believe it. Inside is beautiful new clothes. He hasn’t had any in years and nothing like the quality that slips over his fingers. Liv must have saved almost hundreds of coins for all this. Aaron puts them back until after he drags out the bathtub and scrubs himself in ice-cold water, finally removing every inch of the grease that clings to him.

Wrapped in a bath sheet, Aaron goes back to them and takes out the brilliant white undershirt to pull over his head, the buttery soft black breeches Liv chose for him, and socks! For the first time in forever, and beautifully polished calf-high leather boots. The jacket he slips on fits like a glove. Black with a small white trim, it has thick black butterflies embroidered on the edges next to the trim. He has to turn in the dim light to even be able to see them, but he knows they’re there.

His mother loved butterflies. Every good memory of her is associated with them, including in a box of trinkets he has always hidden, is a paper butterfly she made him right before she died. To her, they represented freedom and change.

 _Don’t worry, Liv, things are going to change_.

The last thing is a black mask that covers just his eyes. He doesn’t know if this is a masquerade, but he takes it with him just in case. He might need the help.

 

 

 

He has to make do without the carriage so he stocks up on carrots and bribes Gamble from her sleep to take him to the palace.

Aaron has never even seen it before and it looms in its opulence. _How can one family need so much?_

He gets to the gate and he’s stopped by a palace guard who asks for his name. He almost gives his father’s, but he despises it. Instead, he offers his mother’s, “Dingle.”

The guard nods and lets him pass, shows him wear to tie Gamble. On foot, it takes an age to get from the gate to the front doors, let alone inside to the party. There’s no one milling about outside the ballroom, so Aaron goes up to the first set of large closed doors before two more guards appear out of nowhere to pull them open. He puts on his mask and edges around them, wary of what they might do.

The first thing he sees is a blinding chandelier. He turns to get a better look at it when he realises that the room is silent.

 _Oh_.

Everyone is staring at him as he makes his way down on side of the massive dual staircase. He takes note that a few people are wearing masks and that makes him feel better. Until the people part and that his mystery friend has parted them.

He’s dressed in blue and white, so bright and vibrant against Aaron’s black, but somehow it works, “It’s you.”

“Uh, hiya…” Aaron says awkwardly as he gets within reach.

“Robert.”

“Robert,” Aaron tastes it on his tongue and it fits. There’s a look on Robert’s face like he expects recognition, but Aaron is failing on all levels.

Robert bows to him and Aaron stiffly bows back, his etiquette lessons old and rusty with disuse. Streams of notes fall together to create the rhythm of a waltz as Robert tucks his hand behind Aaron’s back and holds up his other.

“I don’t dance,” He says in a rush, but he takes Robert’s hand anyway and is pulled in until their stomachs touch and Robert starts to move them. He stumbles his first step, but after, he just watches Robert. There’s something about the serenity in his face that just calms the fear inside Aaron.

He catches a glimpse of the people as they gawp and stare, “People are staring at you, mate.”

Robert laughs, “No, they’re staring at _you_ , and I can’t blame them.”

They turn, and Robert spins him out to bring him back in and Aaron has to grab his bicep so that he doesn’t fall over and he lets Robert dip him down as he holds on so incredibly tight.

Aaron becomes more and more aware of the people. The music comes to a close and he and Robert are still pressed tightly together in the middle as the whispers start to crest into talking. Aaron feels Robert’s lips touch his the barest amount when he hears clapping from above.

Looking up, Aaron sees in the royal box, the queen on her feet clapping, and when he turns to Robert, he’s flushing an ungodly shade of red.

Aaron wracks his brains. _The queen, the queen…Queen Sarah. And her son, Robert_.

 _Prince Robert_.

He pushes away from him. Robert tries to hold him, but the people take it as their move to join the dancefloor and they get parted from one another. Aaron can see Robert trying to get to him when Aaron sees Liv with a man twice her age trying to drag her about the floor. He ignores his own drama and grabs the bloke before punching him in the face, taking Liv’s hand and leading her away through the throng of people.

“Were you just dancing wiv the prince?” She shouts over the music for the Volta.

“Not now, Liv, time to go,” Aaron manages to get past the guards before they realise what’s happening and Robert can get the order out to stop him.

“I look like a meringue, Aaron.”

And it’s true, Liv sweeps up her gown as much as she can in her hands, but it still overflows over her arms and as they reach the stairs at the front of the palace, she becomes more unbalanced. In their rush, she almost trips at the bottom, her shoe coming off and when she tries to reach for it, Aaron stops her.

“You don’t need it, come on.”

Gamble raises up on her back legs when she sees them hurry towards her. Aaron tries to calm her and gets her untied before he scoops Liv up onto her back before getting up himself.

They make it out the gates as they’re starting to close, voices hollering at him to stop in the name of the king, but Aaron doesn’t hear them. He can almost taste freedom.

 

 

 

There’s a snag, there’s always a snag.

Nowhere to place their things, Aaron packed them before he went so that he could grab them quickly as they left. He just wasn’t expecting the fanfare of dancing with the prince.

Sandra kicks the bags with her foot. She must have left the moment Aaron entered. Aaron tries not to think about how she left her daughter all alone to fend for herself to serve her own interests. There’s nothing about that he can forget.

“Get out,” She demands.

Aaron feels like chains have been broken from his body, but Liv cries out and holds herself to him, “It’s okay, Liv.”

“Poor, destitute and alone?” Sandra’s façade drops. She wasn’t evil like his father. She was the evil of indifference.

“No, I’ll have Liv because she wants to come with me,” Aaron is playing his trump card. Sandra is old and she won’t attract another suitor. She relies on Liv the way she relied on Aaron. Take her away and she has nothing.

“She’s my daughter and she’ll stay here.”

Aaron laughs, “In theory, yeah, a good little girl doing as her mum says, but that’s not Liv. She’ll run to me every time your back is turned. You want her, you want the money she brings you, things are going to change.”

In the end, Aaron only fights for the solitude he craves to see out the last few years until Liv is eighteen. It’s all the fight he has left in him.

Liv comes up to his loft room and sits on his bed, “Didja hear?”

“Hear what?” Aaron is writing his thoughts in his journal, commemorating one of the few better times in his life. He stood in a magnificent ballroom and danced with a prince. Even if he was one who lied about who he was.

Liv leaves him the letter. It’s a proclamation; the old king is dead, long live the king, King Robert. Aaron takes a breath and leaves a moment for Robert and the grief he must feel. Losing his mother had been the hardest thing he had to bear because it was the death of so much more. His innocence, his childhood. He prays that the Queen is much kinder to Robert than Sandra ever was to him.

 

 

 

Several weeks later, Aaron takes Liv to the market because he heard the crop was good this year and he wants to know if he can get some good plums.

There is a royal town crier waving his bell around and doing Aaron’s head in, but Liv tries to get on her tiptoes to see past the crowd that’s forming. Aaron pulls her up and sits her on his shoulder so she can see and there’s a loud clearing of his throat before he starts:

“People of the most blessed Dales, his majesty, King Robert, the first of that name, born of the House of Sugden, has decreed a would-be marriage.”

Gasps twitter amongst the people and Aaron’s heart drops.

“This slipper belongs to a young maiden,” the crier produces the slipper, “And when it was lost, it was lost in a great pursuit.”

It’s Liv’s purple slipper.

“His Majesty would like to return said slipper to its owner, and in doing so, find the one he would forever be joined with.”

_That dirty…if he thinks he’s going to—_

Liv calls out, “So, he’s gonna marry the bird with the slipper?”

Robert comes out from a walkway behind the crier and Aaron panics, turning away and taking Liv off his shoulders.

“No.”

More whispers.

“The girl is just a means to an end.” Robert takes the slipper and holds it, it’s tiny in his hand, “Someone once told me that we all deserve to be free. And he was right. My father is dead and I’m as free as I will ever be. I would like to share that freedom with him.”

 _Him_.

Liv pushes him, “Go on, he’s looking for you, ain’t he? That’s my shoe.”

Aaron shakes his head, “No.”

“Aaron.”

Freedom is a lie, an illusion that people believe so that they feel better about the chains they choose or are chosen for them. Aaron learned that the day he ran from Robert.

“Liv,” He begs her. _Let it go_. They have one goal in life: survive and get out.

She nods, and they push against the people still trying to get a glimpse of their new king. Aaron makes it to the plum stall when Liv begs off to get some carrots for Gamble and Citron, her younger mare. He tries to stop her from going alone, but she slips under someone’s armpit and she’s gone.

When she comes back, Aaron is already waiting, “Carrot shortage?”

“A lotta horses ‘round here,” Liv shrugs, and she gives one to each horse with a little pat.

Aaron opens his bag and gives Liv the ripest plum and she dribbles it all down her chin, all thoughts of princes and marriages forgotten.

 

 

 

There’s work to be done in the field and Aaron can’t put the horses out in the heat so he ends up doing most of it himself. The sun beats on his back and Liv calls him in for a cold drink when he’s been out there for longer than a couple of hours.

“We have visitors,” She tells him as they come up to the back door. Aaron stamps his feet to kick off most of the mud.

“Who?”

“Dunno.”

Aaron is usually kept out of conversations, but he’s managed to get some wiggle room since the ball, so he creeps around to the door of the reception room until he sees Robert. Or more specifically, Robert sees him.

“Wait, please!”

He looks at the stairs and wonders where Sandra is and why she isn’t stuck to Robert like glue.

“Aaron, it is Aaron, right?”

Aaron nods, leaning against the doorframe, not in the room and not out of it, “Yeah.”

Robert admits with a shy look, “Liv told me.”

It takes him a second, but he curses under his breath, “She give you a carrot then, did she?”

“What?” He looks perplexed and Aaron finally makes his way into the room. He bows deeply, as he should to his king. “Don’t do that.”

“Why? You are the king.”

“I’m my father’s only blood born boy.” Robert prickles and Aaron feels little hooks of interest dig inside him. Robert sighs when Aaron waits for more of an explanation, “My father adopted a son. One he would have chosen to be king if the law allowed it.”

Aaron feels a bit dumb for saying it, “Why? You’re good enough.”

“Thanks, but in his eyes, I wasn’t.”

 _His father is dead and he’s free_ , Aaron suddenly feels a kinship deeper than anything he’s ever felt before, “He didn’t…approve.”

“No, and when you said what you did, I believed you. We all deserve a right to life.”

“And you just plan on marrying me off, me and my non-childbearing ways,” Aaron scoffs.

Robert looks offended, but he smooths his face out, “I am a king, my people are my children. My love, I choose that for me.”

Aaron wants to question so much of it, but Robert steps closer to him, slowly, and takes Aaron’s fingers up in his hand and holds his other hand over top.

“I’m not offering a kingdom, Aaron, I’m offering a man who would very much like to adore you.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m a right charmer,” He laughs coldly.

“You had me sold with a dance.”

“I don’t have money or a title,” Aaron looks down, he’s got mud all over him still and his shirt is stained with his own sweat, “I don’t have much of anything, but I could love you.”

Robert puts his hands on Aaron’s hips and leans down very close to his mouth, “I would like that very much.”

Aaron winds his arms around Robert’s neck as they finally kiss. It’s the first, but it also feels like the hundredth, that some part of Aaron has always known this would happen. _Ah, there you are_.

When they part, they’re both smiling, and Aaron asks the most important question of his life, “Can I bring Liv?”

Robert looks behind Aaron to the staircase and Aaron doesn’t have to turn to know she’s there, “Yeah, sisters are everything.”

 

 

 

 

Sandra tries to stop them. Aaron is of legal age and with the full force of Robert’s schools of law, they unbind Liv from her mother and make her entirely her own. Her first order of business is to move to the palace with Aaron and Robert. She spends endless days braiding Princess Victoria’s hair and telling Aaron how having a sister is much better than a brother.

Aaron leaves Sandra the house and the ugly memories of it. The day he signed it over, a butterfly appeared at his window and he knew it was time. When he hands over the documents he’s able to get the last of his and his mother’s things, Sandra haughtily telling him that he can wash as much as he liked, but dirt is always dirt.

His hands have been clean for months when Robert finally slips a wedding band on his finger. It’s not the big ceremony that happens in front of the people so he won’t get to keep his ring, but this is for them, for Liv, and for Victoria, standing in the clearing where they met and promising to always be together and to always be free.

Vows said, Robert tips his head forward, “Your highness.”

Another thing to happen, Aaron’s coronation as the kingdom’s prince consort. Robert had offered him to be king, but he hadn’t wanted it. Robert offered him a man to love and that’s what he chose. He is happy to stand one step back and support Robert. Especially when it’s like this and they sit happily on a blanket next to his favourite bridge.

Queen Sarah, the Queen Mother, as styled by Robert, had officiated their union. Bound so much by old laws and old men, she was overjoyed to welcome Aaron and Liv into her family.

“He’s so happy,” She says to Aaron and she picks up a strawberry from the large picnic they brought for the occasion. “Thank you for making my boy happy, Aaron.”

Aaron still blushes and bows his head deeply to her and she cups his face and rubs it just like his mother used to.

“She would be so happy too.” Sarah says with wet eyes, “A mother knows these things.”

“D’ya think?” Aaron asks quietly. There’s so much his mother never lived to see or know about. Most he’s grateful for, but there’s some he likes to think would make her proud.

Aaron has on his black jacket that Liv had made, and Queen Sarah touches one of the butterflies, “I know.”

“Thanks.”

She smiles and touches his shoulder, “You’re welcome.”

Robert catches Aaron for a ‘turn about the floor’, which is that they’ve all, everyone not including Aaron, been dancing on the bridge.

“You owe me a dance,” Robert tells him, and Aaron scrunches up his face.

“No, I don’t.”

“It’s our wedding,” Robert laughs and tries to pull him over.

“I don’t dance.”

“You said that before.”

Aaron tries to free himself, but Liv and Victoria help to get him over to the bridge.

Robert stands at one end and offers Aaron his hand, Aaron shakes his head, “There’s no music.”

Liv makes a sound, “Well, if that’s your problem…”

Everyone looks at her when she starts to sing. Aaron had almost forgotten what she sounded like, it had been so long. She gestures moving forward with her hands as she sings and Aaron smiles.

 _Alright_.

He takes Robert’s hand and they modify the waltz to Liv’s singing, they dance slower, almost swaying as she regales them with tales of love and rain. Dressed in blue, Robert is perfect, this is perfect, and his life is perfect.

Aaron doesn’t need to run anymore. He wants to stand right here, always. He rolls onto his tiptoes and kisses his husband to the wild clapping of not only Robert’s family but the guards and attendants lurking in the background. He steps down with a blush, but Robert chases him and kisses him back with a smile.

_The winds of change are blowing wild and free  
You ain’t seen nothing like me yet_

_I could make you happy, make your dreams come true  
There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do […]_

_To make you feel my love._


	6. Slumber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7 AU + “What are you scared of?” “You.”
> 
> A loose adaptation of Disney's Sleeping Beauty for Emma and her need for Princess Robert and his true love's kiss.

Robert has never had a mother.

He knows he must have had one, but with three overbearing aunts, he wonders if she would have been gentler. As it is he spent yesterday wandering outside after another fight with his Aunt Val about the state of his room when really they were fighting about the state of _things_. Auntie Laurel always tries her best to stand between the two of them, but Robert is suffocating.

He has never known _people_.

Sometimes, when he sits on the tree stump outside, he thinks his Aunt Tracy understands it too. She’ll bring him cakes she’s snuck away from Val and ignores her when she kicks off about it, stuffing one of the smaller ones into her mouth whole in front of Val just to irritate her.

Robert asked her once, about his mother, and she looked at him so sadly he never asked again. _If I can never leave, how can I visit her grave?_

He’s about to turn twenty-two and he knows nothing about anything. Not even where he came from.

Auntie Tracy knocks on Robert’s bedroom door and smiles, “Hiya, Robert. Happy almost birthday.”

_What does he have to celebrate?_

She brings around a basket from behind the door and it’s because she’s brought him a freshly made loaf of bread.

“Did—”

“No, Laurel didn’t make it.”

He smiles. She tries so hard, does Auntie Laurel, but with increasingly worse outcomes. However, her ability to sew him new breeches is unparalleled, much to Val’s disdain.

“I’ll take it with me to the bridge, I need to get some more berries for my paintings,” Robert looks over at one of his canvases. They are a wash of colour, blurred images of memories he thinks he sees in his dreams. They never quite come out how he wants, but he keeps trying.

“But you just went yesterday—”

Val bursts in and Robert jumps with the noise, “No, let him go, not far, we have to…clean. For his birthday.”

“Clean,” Tracy repeats.

Val nods, “Yes, _clean_.”

Robert shakes his head and takes the bread from Tracy’s hands, wrapping it up in the muslin cloth she’s holding it on.

“You do that,” He doesn’t hide his frustration, there’s no point. It’s not like they ever listen to him anyway.

 

 

The more Robert reflects on his upcoming birthday the more he thinks back to the past. His first real memory is of being told never to go beyond the bridge.

_“ROBERT!” Auntie Laurel cried as he headed beyond the bridge the first time. He was only small, tottering on chubby legs as his Auntie Val grabbed his arm so tight that it hurt._

_“Don’t you ever do that again, you silly boy,” She scolds him, giving him a little shake, “It’s not safe.”_

_Robert was only chasing a butterfly with pale yellow wings, he didn’t understand what was wrong. He burst into tears and auntie Tracy took him from his auntie Val and shushed him, wiping his tears as he sat on her knee._

_“Not so long ago was a very dark time, Robbie,” Only her, only auntie Tracy calls him that, “where darkness tried to stain the light, bad people trying to harm good. Beyond the bridge, the darkness still lives. But here, here you’re safe.”_

Safe.

His tiny brain held onto that word, safe. He held onto it until it choked him. _Surely, not everyone can be bad, can they?_

Robert thinks he might do it today. Go beyond the bridge. Meet someone. _Anyone_.

He heads downstairs to pack some cheese to go with his bread and another muslin cloth to hold his berries. He kisses Laurel’s cheek as she’s sitting in the kitchen while he’s getting his things, “Bye.”

“Bye, sweetheart.”

Tracy stands in the doorway to the stairs now, and she gets a kiss on the cheek too and she hugs him tight before he goes to the front door where Val is leaning, her presence looming.

“Bye,” He says with a tight smile.

She looks at him like she can see right through him, “Be careful, Robert, we don’t want you getting hurt now, do we?”

There’s something to her tone that he can’t place, but he kisses her cheek anyway and she taps his face with her palm.

 

 

 

Robert wishes he’d brought a hat. The sun is heavy in the sky and it’s not even noon yet. He sits down under acorn tree just off the river and unpacks the bread, tearing off a piece and popping it into his mouth.

He isn’t paying attention, so he doesn’t see a little squirrel come up to him looking for some food to eat until it’s by his foot.

“It’s bread.”

The squirrel doesn’t leave.

Robert looks from side to side and sees a couple of fallen acorns, he picks one up and tosses it to the squirrel, “There.”

It gratefully picks it up and starts to tuck it up into its mouth and hurries forward, presumably, for another. Robert throws it the other one where it’s now at his knee. It doesn’t eat that one, just holds it like a little hoarder.

“Good thing you don’t live with Auntie Val, she’d have any stash straight out for the bin,” He snorts as he takes out his cheese. The squirrel scoots forward a bit more out of curiosity. “What? You want cheese?”

He breaks off a corner and holds it in his palm, “Here.”

It drops the acorn and scurries for the cheese, stealing it from Robert’s hand like a little thief.

_God, I’m almost twenty-two and the only living thing I have to talk to is a squirrel._

“If that’s how it is, then you need a name,” Robert tells it, and it looks at him with a tilted head, cheeks all filled up, “How about Max?”

It doesn’t run away so Robert figures it’s an okay enough name. They both sit and eat the cheese and Robert lets himself dose in the sun, humming to himself when he feels something furry trying to bury itself next to his side.

 

 

Robert wakes up after an hour or so, Max still following him as he reaches his berry patch. He wishes he had brought his mandolin. It’s not that he can’t carry a tune, it’s just easier, and he likes to do something with his hands while he sings. Robert gives Max one of the blackberries from the overgrowing bush, the acorn already disappeared, and he picks as many ripe ones as he can find. He finds it soothing and he gets into the full swing of his song. He accidentally drops a note and winces before standing up.

“Yeah, needs work, huh, Max?”

Max is rubbing its face to wipe away the blackberry juice.

A branch snaps and Robert immediately turns to the sound, “Val? Laurel? …Tracy?

No one replies.

Leaves are being crunched underfoot.

Robert spies his closed tree, but it has too many high branches to be climbed quickly. He resolves himself to stand his ground. He feels his heart racing in his chest as the sound comes closer and closer behind him. He doesn’t look. He can’t.

He waits until he can almost feel their body heat and he remembers what his Auntie Tracy taught him. He scoops his arm around and lifts with all his strength and drags them both to the ground. They tussle, Robert trying to extricate himself but with his eyes squeezed shut, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“Wait, wait,” The voice is soft. Male.

Robert opens his eyes.

“You’re a—”

He’s underneath a complete stranger who is on his all fours over him, trying to pin his wrists down to stop him from wriggling.

“A what?”

Robert doesn’t know where to look.

Thick dark hair, strong scruff of a beard on his face, it’s a lot to take in, but Robert gets lost in the blue of his eyes. They’re bright like fresh water and they flick up and down his face.

“I’m a what?” The man repeats.

He feels like an idiot for even saying it the first time. Robert doesn’t know what’s happening. He gets a hand free and grabs the man’s shirt to try and pull him over, but he realises its wet.

“You’re wet.” Robert wrinkles his nose, and the man laughs and rolls off him onto his back next to him.

“Fell in the river, didn’t I? Stupid horse. Heard some singing and got all beside himself.”

Robert turns his head and widens his eyes before looking back up, “Oh, right. He’ll probably go back there then.”

He hums, “Yeah, but this is nice.”

Robert watches as the man moves his body like you would to make yourself more comfortable in bed.

 _He can’t stay here_.

“You can’t,” Robert blurts out and one blue eye looks over at him, the other tightly closed against the sun.

“Is that right?”

He rolls up onto his side and Robert feels a generous swoop in his belly. He wills it to stop, but it fades into tingles when nimble fingers brush some of the wood debris off his tunic

“Is this—?” The _wrong_ is unspoken.

Robert doesn’t know. He’s never _with anyone_.

“I—I’m not supposed to talk to strangers."

Max scurries out from the blackberry bush and Robert startles and gets up. _I can’t be here_.

“Hey, wait, I’m sorry,” His companion offers, and Robert shakes his head.

 _I think…you’re right_. An understanding crosses between them and it’s like Robert is released.

“Can I—?” Robert hovers his hand over what he sees now is a sticky wet tunic. The black of it hid it well before, but standing up, it moulds to a strong chest, wider than Robert’s own, thicker with strength and power. But still, he isn’t afraid. Robert is also taller, looking down at his own hesitant fingers as they inch forward.

He curves his palm to accommodate muscle and it’s like he has déjà vu. _Did I dream you once?_ He thinks back on his paintings and he searches for a man among them but there is none.

“Do I know you?” The man asks. He mirrors Robert’s action, but his hand drags down over the flat of his belly and Robert feels sensation trail after it. “What’s your name?”

Robert goes to tell but his throat closes up. His aunt’s words ringing in his ears, he tries to find the lie, the evil lurking behind blue, but he can’t find it.

_Who are you?_

A horse’s whinny interrupts them again and Robert uses it to make his escape.

“Wait, wait,”

He turns back.

“Can we meet here again? Tomorrow?”

Robert shouldn’t.

“I can’t, it’s my birthday, but I live not far from here.”

“Happy Birthday.”

Robert looks at him, a small genuine smile on his face and those still bright eyes, “Thank you.”

“I’ll find you.”

“Okay.”

 

 

Robert’s humming and he’s got fruit for squishing when he gets home. He knocks and spins Laurel when she opens the door to greet him. She laughs, clear as a bell, and Robert smiles at her, wide and showing her his teeth.

“Someone had a good day then?” Tracy encourages as she leans the broom against the wall. There’s a mop in the middle of the floor, but Robert doesn’t question it, cleaning already on the agenda, just carries on humming and heads up to his room.

His paintings are stacked upon themselves lining his walls, so it takes him awhile to find the painting he was thinking of, and he was right, it wasn’t of a man, it was of a feeling, he guesses. There is a black, watery splodge shaped into a shadowy figure and a blue one that swims in the shape of a man but isn’t. He doesn’t understand it, but he thinks it’s them.

Robert puts it by his table and gets out a fresh canvas and puts his berries into his paint bowl for mixing. He needs some redcurrants from his stash to add. When he dips his brush in the colour, it’s a deep, warm red. It almost looks like blood but it’s not. He swipes it wide and it’s his heart, thick and pulsating. He tries to trace that feeling, the freefall in his belly when he was touched.

_That’s what want feels like._

He tries to think of the blue; soft eyes that held no danger.

_Is that what love feels like?_

 

 

“Presents!” Tracy cries as Robert comes down after a long time painting.

“What?” He’s chased into a chair pulled out from the kitchen table and handed a brown paper parcel. There is a beautiful white cake with fondant covering and beautiful blue piping, candles dotted about it in a visual formation.

“It’s not my birthday til tomorrow.”

Robert unwraps the present and they’re clothes. Rich, expensive ones, a periwinkle blue jacket with gold thread sewn into the hem and pristine white breeches. Fit for a king.

“I’ll look smashing in these,” he laughs. After years of wearing patchwork everything, he finally has something all his own. He’ll look nice at his party.

Laurel is crying heavily, but quietly, Tracy’s cheer is muted, and Val looks at him so seriously, he doesn’t know what to make of them.

“What? They’re just clothes.”

Val pulls out the other chair, “No, Robert, they’re not.”

“I don’t—”

“Tomorrow we’re taking you back to your father,” Val tries to take his hand, but he pulls away, standing up and putting his clothes on the chair.

“My father?”

“The king,” Tracy says in the quietest most solemn voice.

“No. No,” Robert shakes his head, “That would mean I’m a—”

“Prince. Yes,” Laurel tries to calm him, but he just backs away from her.

“I won’t go.” Robert declares, and Val sternly takes his arms at his biceps.

“You will, Robert. It’s time for us to give you back to him.”

 _Give me back?_ “If you have to give me back, then he gave me away, I don’t want anything to do with him.”

Robert shakes her off and heads up to his room, his painting still out, drying and mocking him.

 

 

Tracy is the one who comes to him and knocks, “Hiya.”

“Hi.”

He’s lying on his bed and Tracy takes his seat at his table and she shuffles the edges of his canvas, “Pretty.”

“What do you want?”

“D’ya remember when you tried to run beyond the bridge?”

“Yeah, and you said it wasn’t safe.”

Tracy nods, “It wasn’t, it still isn’t, but soon, after tomorrow night, it will be. Your father only sent you away to keep you safe. He lost your mother and when… _he_ came, it couldn’t bear to lose his son, so we offered him a way to keep you safe.”

Robert feels caught by the intonation of _him_ , “Who is _he_? What’s this about?”

“It’s about a curse, Robert. A curse that you will fall into a forever sleep, never living, never dying, if you prick your finger on a spinning wheel before midnight tomorrow.”

“I met someone,” He blurts out.

Val opens the door as if she had been eavesdropping the other side, “You can never see her again.”

Tracy tries to calm him, glaring at Val, but he gets up, ends up towering over her, “What?”

“You are betrothed, to unite the two strongest kingdoms against the dark sorcerer. It is your duty as a prince.”

Robert feels his blood heat, “My duty is nothing because I have lived my life as nothing, I will not yield to a man who claims to be my father.”

His aunt slaps his face. Tracey draws in a breath, “ _Val_.”

“You are not a little boy anymore,” Val says to him, not unkindly, “This right is yours by birth. It is not about want, it is not about deserve, it is about blood. Yours will get you killed if you do nothing. I didn’t, _we didn’t_ , raise you all these years to watch you die. So, put on your clothes, do your duty and live.”

Val leaves them but Tracy guides Robert back to the bed and sits down with him. He’s cold and in shock.

“Him. Not her, him.”

“Oh, Robbie.”

He squeezes his eyes shut to try and stop the tears, but they still come, so he curls up in a ball and lets his auntie Tracy rub his back for the one night he has left with her.

 

 

 

The next morning is frigid despite the warm weather outside.

Robert throws rocks outside after feeding the chickens and Laurel calls him inside for his eggs, but he couldn’t care less. He only comes in because he knows she’s tried her hardest on them for his birthday.

Laurel hovers and Robert looks up at her, “What?”

“I—Tracy told me, about your man.”

“Oh.”

“What’s he…like?”

Robert can see her trying, trying to understand him, “Kind. Trustworthy.”

“And you—” She makes a rolling gesture with her hands.

“I don’t know.” Robert spoons up some of his eggs and chews thoughtfully, “I think it’s both. I just felt…something with him.”

“Do you love him?”

Robert thinks it’s a stupid question, he met the man yesterday and doesn’t even know his name, but he thinks about his paintings and the familiarity in his touch.

“I think I’ve loved him. Before.” _Once upon a dream_.

“I wish things were different for you, Robert, I really do,” She hugs him around his neck, holding him to her stomach, “but maybe, maybe you won’t be so unhappy when you’re married.”

 _I don’t want to be married, I want him_.

“I’m going out.” He pulls away and Val comes in from the front looking sternly at him. “Break my legs if you don’t want me to leave.”

“Don’t be silly, Robbie,” Tracy comes down from upstairs and he knows she’s trying to placate him with that nickname, still treating him like the little boy she did last night.

“You can’t see him again,” Val tells him, and he narrows his eyes at Tracy, but she shrugs.

“It doesn’t matter, I don’t know where he is, alright. He was just something I made up to get through living here!” It’s a lie and they all know it, but it covers the real truth and that is that he’s heartbroken, so no one stops him when he goes.

 

 

 

He heads to his patch and picks some gooseberries for something to do when he hears a small scuffle of foliage. He frowns and looks down. _Max_.

“Oh, hey,” Robert proffers Max a gooseberry and they grab it with quick hands. “You’ll get too fat to forage if I keep feeding you.”

Max keeps chewing.

“Was he here?”

There’s no recognition from Max.

“I’m a prince and I’ll have to marry a princess.” Robert sighs. Max circles under Robert’s bended knees where he’s sitting against a tree again. Robert is able to run a finger up and down Max’s head before they scurry back a little and Robert offers them another gooseberry. “Listen to my father’s rules.”

“I’ve never even had a father.”

“Bit overrated if you ask me.”

Robert looks up and it’s everything, “What are you doing here?”

“Wasn’t sure when the party was.”

He stands up and almost hugs him and he realises they still haven’t exchanged names, “I’m—”

There is a squawking. There’s a big, glossy, black crow in the trees just above them and Max is chasing after it, shooing it away.

“Max!” Robert tries to save Max when the crow tries to pick it off itself. “Hey!”

He slaps the bird and it flies away. He scoops Max up in his hands, small body limp, “I have to—”

Hands held up, there’s nothing stopping Robert from leaving, “Go.”

“My house, cottage, is beyond the willow trees north of here.”

“See ya then.”

Robert doesn’t want to say bye, so he doesn’t, just bobs his head and rushes home.

 

 

Robert gets Max back to his aunts and Laurel rushes to him first, “Oh! What happened?”

“Crow.”

Tracy goes white as a sheet, “A crow?”

“Max, the squirrel, was trying to see it off,” Robert holds it up. They have a cut on their shoulder from a talon.

“Did the crow hear you speak?” Tracy asks him.

“What? No,” He says immediately, “Maybe?”

“What did you say?”

“I was saying how I’m a prince and I have to marry a princess,” He doesn’t know what it has to do with anything, he watches his aunt try to bathe the wound in a little water from the jug.

“We have to go now.” Tracy puts a hand on Laurel’s arm, “Let’s get Val.”

“But Max!” Robert tries to pick them back up and get Laurel to do more but she just looks at him like she’s caught.

Tracy huffs, “Get the wands, Laurel, save the damn squirrel.”

“Wands?” He looks at them.

“Small thing, we’re fairies.” Tracy makes a face like it’s nothing, that she just said she hates potatoes.

“What?”

“We can do that later, we need to get you safe and to the palace, chop chop.”

His ‘royal’ clothes are shoved at him as well as a lightweight cloak added to the pile and he’s shoved up the stairs with an urgency he’s never seen before.

Val is waiting for him with the others and he shifts awkwardly because his clothes are tighter than they’ve ever been. They are as they have always been; comforting, warm, normal, then they each pull out a thin cylindrical thing out of their cloak sleeve and wave them over their heads, sparks fluttering down on them. Slowly, his aunts start to change. They become younger than they were, all evidence of age leaving them, and their clothes start to mould into a colour, Val, red, Laurel, green and Tracy, blue. They aren’t royal, but they are well made.

Val scolds Tracy when she points to her back, “No wings until after the palace.”

 _Wings_ , Robert feels faint.

Tracy sees him and takes his hand, “It’s okay, it’s time for you to go home.”

Laurel waves her wand over Max and they jump up as if they had never been injured at all, “All better.”

Robert feels his eyes watering because there’s nothing that can keep him here now. Other than the fact that he wants to stay.

 _It’s not enough, not when you’re a prince_.

Val leads the procession, “Let’s go.”

Robert bows his head and he doesn’t raise it the whole way to the palace.

 

 

 

He’s led to a chamber somewhere far away from the apparent festivities being held in honour of his return.

“You’ll meet your father when the night has passed,” Laurel assures him.

“When he still has a son to rule,” Robert chokes out.

_That’s what this is really about, isn’t it?_

“We’ll just tell him that you’re here and that you want to see him.”

Robert turns his back on Laurel because he really doesn’t care to see his father. He’s taken everything from him. His home, his family, such as it was, and his heart’s desire. What could he possibly want from that man?

“He really does love you, you know,” Tracy offers before she closes the door, “He gave you up to try and save you. Maybe, if nothing else, that counts for something.”

Robert sits on the floor because the room is basically barren until unburning green flame lights the fireplace. He barely scuttles back from it before it opens a mysterious hallway in the wall. Robert’s whole body is repulsed by it, by the fire, by the magic, but he can’t get away from it. His body is going and his mind is trapped.

 _No, no, no_.

He sees the spindle and he screams inside his own skull. He begs and pleads, and nothing changes. His finger reaches out and the pain is like nothing else. It’s poison, it’s fire, it’s unending agony and it’s nothing.

 

Robert falls for an eternity. Then he wakes up in a hall of mirrors. Then he feels sick as he’s spun out of control.

He dreams. He has nightmares.

He sleeps.

 

Somewhere in the corner of his subconsciousness, he knows the wizard exists. Robert tries to root him out. Ask him why.

What he finds is much more disturbing.

He is a child, he is a man, he is nothing, he is doom. The sorcerer laughs when Robert tries to fight.

 

“Why?” He croaks as he chases down his hundredth corridor in the palace.

“You ruined my life; your existence sickens me.”

It only gets worse.

 

The worst is when he is given hope. If he can just reach the door, if he can just get away, he’ll wake up, but he knows he won’t.

The sorcerer shows him the world he is no longer a part of. How he has _Aaron_ in chains. His name offered in friendship only to be twisted with the promise he’ll let him go in a hundred years when his life gone, his body decrepit for no other reason than he met Robert.

“Such a hero. Such a waste.”

The wizard morphs into a dragon that burns the very ground Aaron stands on to watch him scream.

 

The land shifts. Robert’s mind becomes accustomed to the lair of the dark sorcerer, unending in his changing faces, and they spend time there more often than not. Robert eventually learns how to sneak behind the throne room of bones to get to the dungeons where the false image of Aaron lives. Robert just sits with him and talks, unable to free either of them from their chains.

 

It might have been one day or a hundred, but the ground begins to quake. The tendrils inside his mind begin to uncurl, his head clearer than it has been in ages. Robert sees it as his chance. He runs past everything to the armoury and grabs two swords, slotting them against his back and grabs two shields. He avoids the main crumbling staircase as the goblin creatures torment him if he tries to pass. He heads down the black staircase to the rear, covered in viscous fluid and Robert thinks the wizard’s very soul.

He reaches the dungeon and Aaron sees him and what he’s brought, “Robert, what’ve you done?”

“I’m getting us out of here.” He hits the lock with the sword, kicking the other through to Aaron.

They race up the backstairs once their combined efforts get Aaron free.

Aaron looks around, Robert looks at him, “What?”

“Where’s the dragon?”

Robert feels the floor shake and the ceiling crumble as it caves in with a dragon head poking through.

Aaron pushes Robert out of the way of the debris and Robert hits the floor on his side before hurrying up. Aaron holds his sword in both hands and waits the dragon out.

Robert throws himself into covering Aaron’s back. He holds up his sword and prays that he’ll get it right.

Only there’s cackling. The fluid from the stairs is binding his feet, slurping up his legs and he can’t move. Aaron drops his sword, “Robert.”

“Lachlan, he’s done this.” Robert tries to free himself but to no avail.

“It’s alright,” Aaron shushes him. He’s untouched. “I’m gonna fix it.”

“How?” He’s terrified, covered up to his waist.

“I love you.”

Robert freezes.

“I love you, so come back to me.”

He doesn’t move until Aaron cups his face and brings their lips down to touch. His hands immediately slide up to Aaron’s neck, holding him in place as Robert slowly feels his body free up.

 _It’s working_.

 

 

Robert lets the feeling of fear go from his body and he holds tighter onto Aaron. He opens his eyes and he sees blue, but also stark white.

“What?”

“Whadja mean, what?” Aaron asks him with a frown on his face, pulling back.

Robert looks at his hands and he’s got a cannula in his left and a wristband on his right: **Sugden, Robert J., DOB 22/04/1986**.

“I’m not—” He scrunches up his eyes and opens them again. It’s the same.

“Robert, I’m calling the doctor.”

Slowly, everything solidifies, “I’m okay.”

“You almost died in a gas leak, you ain’t alright,” Aaron’s eyes are red and his beard is about half an inch too long. Robert can’t help but touch it and it bristles against his fingers. Aaron leans into the touch and it makes him smile.

“Gas leak?” Robert asks after he’s had his fun rubbing Aaron’s face.

Aaron hums, “Yeah, at home.”

He frowns, “But we get our stuff checked.”

“We do, but we don’t usually have a homicidal teen on the edge.” Aaron’s face darkens a little and Robert brushes his face to try and smooth it out. “Lachlan went after Liv.”

That makes him stop.

“What?”

“She had him dead to rights,” Aaron looks down, “Just like you did.”

Robert doesn’t understand what’s happening.

“Lachlan killed Gerry, and when Liv figured it out he came for her.”

“But she’s alright though, and Seb?” he realises he doesn’t see her or him, and a pit in his stomach starts to open up.

“Yeah, they’re fine at Vic’s, Seb wasn’t even there, but you, you were in a lot worse shape, Rob,” Aaron rubs his forearm like he hasn’t touched him in forever, “You’ve been out for two weeks.”

Robert doesn’t know what to do with that, but he does put his hand on top of Aaron’s to stop him rubbing, “I was, now I’m up.”

Aaron looks at him and Robert can see him welling up.

“What day is it?”

“Sunday.”

The telly in the corner is on Channel 5 and the end credits are running for a film, “Sleeping Beauty.”

Aaron turns around to look at the telly, “Oh, yeah, I just had it on for the noise; stops most of the—”

 _Worry_.

“Get up here,” Robert cocks his head, ignores how rank his mouth must be and gives Aaron a kiss, a better one, one he can wholeheartedly put himself behind. There’s even a bit of friction because he hasn’t shaved and Aaron didn’t shave his face for him. He rubs it thoughtfully.

“Bit weird that,” Aaron gestures to it as he sits back down, “growing bum fluff out ya face.”

Robert rolls his eyes, “Alright, no need to get narky.”

Aaron just smiles, and Robert can see how happy he is and how stressed he must have been, the wan tightness in his face isn’t something that can be hidden, “I love you.”

“I love you.” Another kiss and Aaron brushes his hair off his forehead.

 

 

“Whadja mean you hallucinated Sleeping Beauty?” Aaron asks as he comes from the kitchen to put a cup of tea down on the coffee table. Liv enthralled in Robert’s retelling of his adventure.

“I was the princess,” Robert folds his arms and Liv laughs under breath as Aaron raises his eyebrows.

“Sounds about right.”

Liv turns her cup around so that the handle is facing to the right, “Does that mean Aaron was the prince?”

Aaron looks at Liv like he hadn’t even considered that.

“Oh, you mean a big strapping hero type? Nah, I grabbed my own sword to save the day,” Robert sits up so that he can blow on his tea.

He gets a tap ‘round the back of the head and he grabs Aaron’s fingers. Liv rolls her eyes and goes to grab some biscuits.

“’Come back to me?’” Robert asks, and Aaron looks at him before he flushes.

“See, I don’t need a Disney prince to kiss me awake, I have a real one,” and he pulls Aaron down and their lips are about to touch when Liv throws the packet at him while asking him, “Want one?”

“Finders keepers,” Robert says as he opens up the chocolate hobnobs and keeps them out of Liv’s reach when she tries to take them back, “Teach you not to throw food though, won’t it?”

“Robert, give ‘em back!” Liv squishes up against him on his settee to try and get them, but he just stuffs one into his mouth and holds them away.

He wraps his arm around her shoulders and squeezes her to him before giving them to her, “I’m glad you’re alright.”

Liv leaves the biscuits for a second before she hugs him back and then takes them and goes back to her seat.

Aaron sits in her vacated space and Robert leans on his side, still chewing his biscuit.

 

Eventually, they’re on their own and Aaron is pulling on Robert’s forearm hair while he lays back on Aaron’s chest, squidged between his thighs.

“What was it like, dreaming all that?”

Robert looks up, “Hmm?”

“You looked so out of it when you woke up, did you still think you were there?”

“I think I thought I was. It was weird because I think I knew it was fake,” Robert thinks back, “All of it, the aunts, my dad, it all felt real. Except you.”

“Me?” That confuses Aaron.

“I felt like I knew you, I had done all of these paintings but there was this one of a blue blob and black blob.”

That makes him laugh and Robert shoves his leg.

“At first, when we met I was terrified, scared of what you meant but feeling like I knew you, it was okay.”

“Being attracted to a man?”

“That and realising when I woke up that the blobs were us. On our wedding day in the real world. I could create a whole version of my life where everything was a lie, except you, and the way I feel about you.”

Sharing that much feels like a lot and Robert feels tired out, so he snuggles further into Aaron’s embrace and smiles when he feels him press a kiss to the top of his head.

 _Yeah, this is a hundred times better than anything made up_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to miss yesterday because I was so tired, but I do plan to write that story eventually, it just won't be in time for the week. It's been hard work and tons of fun. Big thank you to Haley for running it, it's a hard job and one she undertakes lovingly. 
> 
> Thus endeth the tales. <3


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